


Better Left Unknown

by Haustere



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Purgatory, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haustere/pseuds/Haustere
Summary: Wally woke, but maybe that was the wrong word for it. Like jarring to attention after drifting too close to slumber, or the rush of an implacable threat snapping at your heels.





	Better Left Unknown

Wally woke, but maybe that was the wrong word for it. Like jarring to attention after drifting too close to slumber, or the rush of an implacable threat snapping at your heels.

The landscape gave him pause, iridescent white stretching to and across his vision. An unconscious urge had him reaching upward, gloved fingers probing at flat, white space, expecting something to meet his grasp. It struck him as odd that he was still in his hero gear. _Still? What was I even doing—_

‘Had me worried for a second there, _West_ ,’ a voice cut in, twisting with an edge on the last syllable.

He started, scrambling up on his feet, bewildered, vision snapping to a _man –boy –teen?_ dressed in rags, haggard and seared, who rose from a crouch in turn, the motion deceptively casual. And if Wally noticed the burns and scars stretching across their body, digging up a guy’s backstory was the last of his priorities.

It was his turn to play innocent. ‘West what? Speaking of, where _are_ we?’

The man’s gaze was a piercing teal, traces of humour stolen away. ‘West, Wallace Rudolph. Friend to Richard “Dick” Grayson and member of the young justice league.’

‘I don’t recall introducing myself, or outing my personal identity to a complete stranger, for that matter,’ Wally said, chin jutting in defiance, ‘if your intel was worth a damn, you’d know I quit years ago—‘ He stopped himself, not for giving away information in an already-precarious situation, stranded in an unknown environment with someone who knew too much.

It was the look on the other man’s face. Much of it was disfigured, warped by some horrific event, but the still-readable expression was a punch to the gut. Not because of the hurt inflicted by his words, but the familiarity of it.

Expression shuttering, the figure flashed his teeth in a sneer punctuated by a lackadaisical shrug, ‘what can I say? Being dead gives me magic.’

‘Not that I don’t appreciate the misguided attempt at humour, a legitimate answer sometime during the next century would be nice.’

‘Do I _look_ nice to you?’

‘…That’s beside the point,’ Wally shook his head before deciding on a different line of questioning, gesturing to the blank landscape, ‘where are we?’

The man let out a derisive laugh, dark bangs falling into his eyes and arms curled around his torso as it came out with a tinge of hysteria. ‘The afterlife. Elysium. Purgatory. Take your pick,’ the man replied, ‘though I don’t think it’s too bright an idea to be asking _me_ , of all people. Where’s your scientific curiosity?’  
  
The off-beat, casual banter. Sharp but true to intent. It was familiar, but familiar meant thinking about death, resurrection, and other impossibilities because – standing before him wasn’t some adversary – it was Robin. Jason Peter Todd, the shadow of grief trailing Batman’s footsteps. Jason, a brother. Dick was never the same, no matter what the team wanted (needed) to believe, to heal, to move on.

Here, they had nothing but time and company to match it.

‘Originality was never your forte, was it, Jay?’

Something relaxed in Jason’s posture, and this time Wally knew to recognise it for what it was. Nervous tension, loneliness, and something he couldn’t quite place. A thin, honest smile. ‘This, coming from Kid Flash? I don’t know what to say.’

‘A good place to start would be “thank you”, “I hope to learn your ways, Master West”, or better yet—’

‘—“let me lick your shoes like the good sidekick I am?”' Jason shot him a hooded, speculative look, ‘never knew you had it in ya, red.’

So much regret. ‘Alright! Okay. Consider this conversation _stopped_.’ He took stock of his surroundings. A luminant white stretched across his vision with no discernible end, and his skin prickled with a creeping sensation of urgency, like a distant nightmare that felt more real than anything else.

‘Jay… if you’re here, and I’m here—‘

‘Wal, I want you to think this through. Take it slow.’ Jason reached out to steady him, but Wally couldn’t suppress a flinch at the sudden proximity. The hand dropped to Robin’s side, and they were back to where they started, weren’t they?

Wally managed a reassuring smile, fighting the urge to grimace. _Great job alienating the Robin with third degree burns, you class act._ And it sunk in why they never saw the body, not the real thing because this was the _Joker they were talking about._

He’d probably let silence stretch too long, because the next time he looked back at Jason, he was greeted with a defensive stance, arms crossed and gaze cast aside, inscrutable. But emotional stonewalling was to Jason what stress-cuddling was to Dick. A front in the face of affliction.  

Wally dialled up the ham to full force, ‘babe, it’s not you, it’s me. Just, ah,’ a pause, fighting for an excuse, ‘need some time to adjust, preferably with personal space intact, you get me?’

‘K Flash, I’d say I appreciate it, but – honestly – I don’t,’ Jason ran a hand through his hair. What was left of it. ‘What happened? Second fastest shmuck alive and you couldn’t outrun a gunshot?’

‘Third.’

Jason offered him an unimpressed look. ‘What?’

‘Third fastest – there’s another speedster, not that it was a grand conspiracy to mess up your Bat rankings! But, ah, one of the time travelling variety.’ And now he was rambling, pitch rising into a nervous crescendo, ‘you know, I never thought someone could usurp the title of Most Property Damage from your metaphorically klepto hands but you should have been there when his machine-pod-capsule blew open the mountain. Good stuff. His name’s Bart.’

‘Amusing as it is to watch you suffer, if you didn’t want to talk about it then all you had to do was say so,’ Jason huffed, before turning away, ‘don’t dance around on my account. Or do, whatever makes it easier.’

Wally caught up to former-Robin’s pace easily, indignant. ‘It’s not that! I just—it’s a bit blurry around the edges. I was running with mentor Flash, baby Bart Flash, and then there was me?’

Jason shrugged, unmoved by his efforts. ‘That’s progress.’

‘Why are you so interested, anyway? I never pegged you for a gossip before, or maybe we ran the wrong circles.’

‘When you stay _here_ ,’ Jason swept his hand to their surroundings, unchanged as always, ‘for long enough, you end up picking up new habits, smartass.’

Curiosity reared its ugly head. ‘Well. Aren’t the others here?’ Wally thought back to the grotto, monuments trapped in static. ‘Tula, Ted Kord… Literally anyone else dead in the history of Earth? That’s what an afterlife is, right?’

Jason’s gaze laid straight ahead, unwavering, ‘Wally.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re the only one I’ve met.’


End file.
